Unactualized Dream
Who are you truly?
The man you believe yourself to be,
Or the stranger in the mirror’s gleam?
The son your mother cherishes still,
The wanderer expected home at will,
Or that desolate soul whose only friends
Are the hands that shield him from the wind?
Are you the boy who lost it all,
Or mere illusions that rise and fall?
You dream of flight and walking seas,
Of boundless wealth and destinies—
Yes, you whisper, that’s who I am.
But notice how a man becomes
Not what he shows, but what he dreams.
All things seem possible to those
Who truly believe in what they were.
So who bears blame when dreams expose
Their hollow core? The dream that glows
Or he who chased its fading light?
The promise sweet, or willing fool?
The siren song, or one who heard?
They say it’s just a dream, but no—
Dreams push us past our boundaries,
Promise worlds we’ll never know,
Paint impossible geometries,
Then leave us broken when they go.
A dream’s a cruel cartographer
Marking “roads less traveled by,”
Leading seekers far from home
Until they’re lost beneath strange sky,
A shadow of their former selves.
What is a dream but fragile hope?
A hypocrite in lover’s clothes,
Who whispers sweet to countless souls
Then chooses one to rise above,
Leaving others far below.
I should have listened, should have known:
Dreams are chosen, not imposed.
Why do we claim we’re special ones
Only to become what we despise?
Why chase impossible horizons
When others saw the dangers clear?
“To hell with consequences,” pride declares,
While watching peers advance ahead.
A man enslaved to dreams, beware—
You’ll sacrifice it all instead
For promises that turn to air.
So who are you? A dreamer lost,
A soul deluded by the cost
Of chasing what can never be?
The path ahead forks endlessly—
Choose wisely which shall set you free.